The Birthday Gift
by Ruse
Summary: A moment in the life of Carson Beckett leads him to an attack of Killer!Ewoks.


**The Birthday Gift**  
By Angel Ruse 

A little birthday fic for my dear friend Deana, who likes nothing better than to see the stuffing knocked out of Carson. ;-)

* * *

The infirmary was dim and silent. The usual buzz of medics running here and there had stopped about an hour ago. There was nothing unusual about this, seeing as it was night, there were no emergencies and even doctors needed rest from time to time. 

What was a bit strange was for three men to be sitting in there enjoying a late dinner together. One of these would not be leaving the infirmary tonight, being bound by his own standard of orders for bed rest after the day he had managed to survive. Another sat on a bed nearby, holding his plate of food uncomfortably low on his lap so he could lift the fork with his left hand, for his right arm was broken and trapped in a sling. The third man had plopped right down on the first one's bed, sitting at the foot of it as if he had every liberty to do so.

Carson shifted position, then tapped McKay's offending leg menacingly with a blanket-covered toe. "Your sittin' on me foot, lad." He fidgeted with the oxygen tube in his nose.

"So move it," Rodney replied, taking a bite of his dinner. "God, I never thought food could taste so good."

John transported his plate from his lap to the mattress. "Even a power bar would taste good to me after the day we've had." He yawned and swung his legs back and forth.

"Mmph." Rodney quickly chewed the large portion of food he had tried to speak around, then tapped the lid of a small bowl on Carson's tray. "You're gonna worship me for this. I swiped it from Elizabeth's personal stock."

The doctor gave McKay a dubious look, but nonetheless lifted the bowl up and examined it. He was still a bit groggy from the painkillers and his lack of speed was annoying his friend, he noticed. Still, Carson fought on and managed to conquer the lid. When he beheld what was inside his eyes widened. "Lad! French vanilla ice cream!" His speed increased by leaps and bounds as he groped for his spoon.

Rodney nodded smugly. "It's even got those useless little black dot thingamajiggers you like so much."

The man in the bed did not respond, except to let out a very satisfied moan as the spoon passed his lips. McKay and Sheppard exchanged glances. "I don't _ever_ wanna hear you make that noise around me again," John said. Then he grinned. "'Course this might not be Rodney's first time, considering the Laura incident, so…"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" McKay growled. The man visibly shuddered. "God, you just _had_ to bring that up, didn't you? And for your information I've never heard that sort of sound out of Carson," he turned his head towards the doctor, "and I thankfully never will again,_ right?_"

"Keep feedin' me the ice cream an' ya might." Carson mournfully dug at the bottom of the bowl, then set it down in dejection. He sighed and gazed across the room.

Ripping little bits of napkin and balling them up, Sheppard asked playfully, "Whatcha thinkin'" and hurled one at the doctor. He smirked in satisfaction when it bounced off Carson's forehead.

Carson hunted the little thing and tossed it back roughly. "Just thinkin' how bein' here we miss some o'the things back home, ya know?"

"Wanna go back to Earth?" Rodney asked, digging into his own bowl of ice cream. He gave Sheppard a dirty look when a little napkin ball landed on the white smoothness he was about to consume.

Carson let out a breath. "Not really. Well, sometimes. Today's a fine example." He looked at John and shrugged. "A friend o'mine's got a birthday comin' up, an' I just won't be there ta give her a gift."

"Special friend?" John wiggled his eyebrows.

"Heh," Beckett grunted. "Wouldn't _you_ like ta know?" He leaned his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes. "My head's killin' me. I think I banged it on the hill."

Sheppard sighed and slid off the bed he was perched upon. "Considering what happened I'm not surprised. Why don't we let you get some sleep?"

"Aye," Carson agreed, settling into the blankets sleepily.

Rodney clamored off the bed and took both he and the doctor's tray, sparing another hard look when Sheppard piled his on top with a smile. He glanced in concern back at Carson as he faded fast into repose.

Then the engineer grinned. Sheppard watched with a worried expression as McKay plotted something or other in that devious little mind of his.

* * *

_Earlier…_

The first thing he thought when he opened his eyes was, _Oh good. I'm upside down_. That was, of course, sarcasm. Carson stared for a moment at the semi-flattened bushes hugging the 'jumper windshield, then twisted his neck around to see if his companions were okay. "Anybody awake up there?" He could see Sheppard from his viewpoint, also hanging upside down. "Are ya a'right?"

"If you define having the blood pool in your head until your brain explodes due to multiple aneurisms 'all right', then I guess I'm just friggen peachy." McKay. He sounded a might grumpy.

Ronon dropped from his seat beside Beckett, twisting so he didn't injure himself. Within moments he had the doctor out of his straps with a large knife, and then moved to cut down Rodney. "Some storm," he rumbled. A crack of thunder accentuated his observation.

"You're not kidding," Colonel Sheppard said, announcing his wakefulness. He groaned. "I hit my arm. I think it's broken, Doc."

"I'm comin', son," Carson murmured, already digging through his medical supplies. He made his way to his hanging friend and examined the arm in question. "Aye. Broken. That's luck for ya."

Sheppard groaned. "I don't care if you have to cut my arm _off_, get me down before my head explodes."

Peeking over the doctor's shoulder, McKay said, "That couldn't really happen, could it?"

Beckett didn't dignify that with an answer. With the aid of Ronon and 'supervision' of Rodney, they got the ailing Colonel Sheppard down without much fuss. He sank to the roof of the fallen 'jumper and cradled his arm while Beckett fished through the medical supplies for a sling. Ronon crouched down in front of John. "What happened?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Storm was stronger than I thought. The wind sheer coming off those trees to our west was brutal."

"Aw, for god's sake," an irritated voice called from nearby. The three men at the front of the 'jumper looked back at McKay. He shook his head and pointed to the mass of circuitry he had been examining near the ceiling-turned-floor. "We're grounded for a little bit. The fall really banged the 'jumper up."

"We got the cloak?" Sheppard asked.

McKay looked at his watch and shook a finger each time he counted off, "Three. Two. One." The lights in the 'jumper went out. "No power. One of the circuits just failed, cutting it off."

"But it's fixable, right?"

McKay nodded impatiently. "Fixable, yes. The power isn't being drained by anything because nothing can retrieve any of it." He crouched and looked up at Ronon. "Open the hatch as soon as the storm blows over—_if_ it blows over—to let in a little light. Oh, and someone get out the power bars."

Carson shook his head and tossed one at the engineer, then handed one to Sheppard. "Could've been worse, I s'pose."

McKay stopped what he was doing to glare at the doctor. "You had to go and say it, didn't you?"

"What?"

The engineer pointed an accusing finger and only replied, "Just you wait," before going back to his work.

After a little while of assorted chit-chat and trading of irritable words the storm died down and Ronon opened the hatch. The wind was still a bit chilly, but if felt good to the doctor. He got up from where he had been sitting with Sheppard and stood on the threshold to enjoy it. The world outside the 'jumper reminded him of home. It was like looking out on the moors on a foggy day.

He didn't get long to enjoy it. The good doctor started backing away from the threshold of the hatch. "We're, ah, we're bein' watched, lads." He backed into Ronon, who steadied him from falling.

Sheppard pulled himself up and even McKay stopped working. The four men gazed at two eyes watching them from the trees across the way. The creature cocked its head, fully aware of this new scrutiny. "Big Ewok," Sheppard said softly.

"Huh, it does look an Ewok," Rodney agreed. He elbowed the Colonel with a snort. "Think George Lucas has been through the Stargate? Paycheck like his…"

John rolled his eyes. "No, I do not think George Lucas has been through the Stargate."

The engineer returned moodily to his repairs, muttering, "I was only kidding," and then very quietly, "It could happen."

The creature did, in fact, look like a live teddy-bear. There were differences, though. It wore no leather hat, carried no weapons and its eyes glowed. Then, of course, there were the huge fangs. The four men could see those with increasing clarity as the creature crept towards the 'jumper on all fours like a monkey.

It stopped at the bottom of the ramp, staring up through those shimmering green-gold eyes. Sheppard crouched down and extended his hand. "Hey, little guy…"

"Colonel," Carson murmured in a warning tone.

The creature crawled up the ramp and mimicked John's actions, causing the Colonel to grin. "He's pretty smart," he praised, extending just a bit further so he could touch the animal's three-fingered paw. The creature jerked away and stared at Sheppard.

McKay grunted, having stopped to watch again. "We'll see how smart _you_ are when that thing carries off your one good arm."

"No way," the Colonel scoffed. He looked up at Beckett. "Gimme that bag of power bars."

"A'right, lad." Carson was a bit dubious about this whole first contact, but the Colonel was the Colonel. He handed off the bag and scooted back.

Reaching inside, Sheppard removed what he thought would be a good choice in flavor—peanut butter. He ripped the packet open, sniffed the bar to demonstrate and then broke off a piece for the little creature. "Gotta take it out of my hand," he admonished when the little guy held out its paw but wouldn't grab it.

After a few minutes the creature seemed to get the idea that to get fed it was going to have to get brave. Edging closer it snatched the piece of food from the offering hand, then sniffed a few times. Apparently peanut butter was a good choice. The Ewokish being stuffed the whole half into its mouth and chewed loudly, never taking its eyes off the four men.

And then in a flash the creature pounced unexpectedly. Sheppard fell on his beck, groaned when his arm was clawed savagely, and laid there in stunned silence when the creature twisted the bag out of his hand and whooshed out of the 'jumper like a bat out of Hell. McKay snickered, "I don't remember _that_ from Jedi."

Ronon pulled the Colonel into a seated position as Beckett knelt down to examine the arm. He touched the scratches tentatively, causing his friend to wince. "Not too deep. Shouldn't even require stitches," he announced.

Sheppard sighed, then looked up quickly. "Crap!"

"What?"

"Those were our only supply of power bars." The Colonel glanced up at Ronon. "You and Doc feel like hunting that little guy down?"

McKay glared at Sheppard at this sudden news. "They'd better, or _you'd_ better, because we might be stuck here for a little bit longer."

Ronon was already hefting his gun, getting it ready. Beckett coughed nervously and rubbed at his mouth. "Ya want me ta go?" he asked a bit nervously.

"I'd go," John replied. He nodded towards his broken arm. "Can't shoot anything, though. You'll do fine. Take my P-90. She'll take care of you."

"A'right." Carson took the gun Ronon handed off. He then sneezed. "Bloody weather."

Without much enthusiasm he followed Ronon out into the chilly weather. It wasn't too difficult to track the creature's path towards the woods, given the footprints littering the mud. In confirmation the two men found a fallen power bar within the first layer of trees. He picked it up, pocketed it and sneezed again.

"You gonna be all right, Doc?" the big warrior asked, not without a trace of amusement.

"Aye." Carson rubbed at his itchy nose, then pointed the P-90. "Let's just get this over with."

And so they were on the hunt once more. After watching this thing run, Carson wasn't sure exactly how much hope they had of actually catching up. He reasoned, however, that if they were lucky they might find a few more power bars and be able to ration them out until McKay got the 'jumper fixed. At least he hoped so. The Stargate was on a large cliff that didn't appear reachable by foot from this angle, so they wouldn't be walking through it any time soon.

A couple of minutes later they found another power bar. Ronon examined the package, then shoved it into his jacket as he examined the dirt for more signs of the creature's trajectory.

Carson watched, having no real experience in tracking. Unfortunately, he didn't watch his back. There was a ferocious cry from the tree behind him and before he could turn he was on the ground. The creature had leapt on him and was now gleefully attacking him. "Bloody hell!" he yelled in panic, trying to scramble away as his jacket ripped.

Ronon took aim, but quickly discarded the idea given the blast radius of his gun. It was too much of a risk. He whipped his knife out and kicked the creature off the mauled doctor.

Unfortunately the one creature wasn't just one. It was three. Another one hopped onto Ronon's shoulders from above, and the third charged Carson from the bushes. The doctor groped for the P-90 and shoved himself up to his feet in full adrenaline mode. He tried to shoot, but the animal jumped and was sailing straight for him. "Oh crap!" Carson gasped, then took off in a dead run.

He didn't get far. Unfortunately uncivilized landscapes tend to be anything but flat at all times. This world was no exception. Carson didn't see the ground descend until it was too late. Suddenly the ground dropped beneath his feet and he joined it, tumbling down a small hill littered with bushes, thorns and brush. How he missed the trees he'd never know, but he sure didn't miss the bushes and thorns.

Beckett slid to a stop at the bottom of the hill, straight into a big puddle. The dirt splashed over flesh, cuts and bruises, and he yelled out in aggravation. The creature was still hot on his tail, however, affording him little time to gather his senses.

It fell on his chest hard and started clawing the jacket—and Carson's skin, unfortunately. Blasts in the distance suggested Ronon wouldn't be aiding him right away. The doctor knew he was going to have to save himself. The P-90 was gone. He had but one hope.

While the animal was busy biting his left arm, Carson jerked his right hand into his jacket and slapped the little thing upside the head with the power bar he had been carrying. "Take it!" he shouted, then hurled the food into the woods. "Be my bloody guest!"

The Ewokish creature took off, satisfied with the doctor's surrender. Carson groaned and sneezed again. His skin burned, his nose itched and his lungs were fighting for oxygen. All in all it was a very bad way to end the hunt.

Footsteps bounded towards him and he prayed it wasn't another one of those beasts. Mercifully it was only Ronon, who carried naught but a few scratches on his body and face. "You all right, Doc?" he asked, bending down.

"Yeah," Carson wheezed, then coughed hard. His lungs seized in pain and he closed his eyes, whispering, "Not this."

"What's the matter?"

He looked up at the large warrior worriedly. "Allergies. Can't breathe…"

What was once an annoying little diversion was now taking a dangerous turn. He didn't even feel able to get up, much less walk of his own volition back to the 'jumper. Ronon picked up on the gravity of the matter and pulled the doctor up like he were nothing.

They walked a few paces up the hill before Carson toppled over into the mud. He gasped for air as Ronon lifted him up again. By the time they reached the 'jumper he couldn't even recall having made the trip to it. All he knew was that he was being stretched out on the floor. His lips and fingertips tingled. Not a good sign.

"What the hell happened?" Sheppard demanded, racing from the front of the 'jumper.

Ronon jerked the doctor's coat open and murmured, "Allergies." He grabbed the medical pack and handed it off to Sheppard. "What do we do now?"

"Anti…" Carson tried to say, but couldn't finish as he started to gasp. His hand found something, someone's clothing, and curled around it in fear.

"Antihistamines," Sheppard mumbled, ripping through the bag and tossing things without discrimination. "Doc, I'm not seeing anything in here. Doc?"

Carson felt a slap against his cheek, but couldn't respond. He knew he was allergic to cats—had been no stranger to a little wheezing now and then if he encountered one—but this was unreal. He could feel himself slipping away as Sheppard yelled at McKay to get the 'jumper running, who hissed, "I'm working as fast as I can!"

"Don't you worry, Doc," John ordered, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "And don't you dare die. We're gonna get you out of here."

There was more ripping through the medical pack. An eternity passed while Carson gasped and bled on the floor of the 'jumper. Then someone tore his shirt open and jabbed his chest with a needle. Carson's lids fluttered and he grasped Sheppard's coat a little harder as the life-saving liquid was pumped into him.

And then sweet relief. He took a weak breath and coughed like a half-drowned kitten, but won a measure of oxygen for his starving extremities. Carson opened his bleary eyes and tried to focus on something—anything. Sheppard leaned back against the wall of the 'jumper. "See there, Doc," he said, and the relief in his voice was very evident. "I got your back."

Carson waved his fingers in the only form of thanks he could manage at the moment. Above him Ronon was dousing white gauze in alcohol, which he pressed to the doctor's wounded side. Carson tensed and moaned as his skin seared. "Sorry, Doc." Ronon rubbed the dirt and blood off the ripped skin.

Exhausted, the doctor said nothing. He closed his eyes, praying this wouldn't be an extended stay...

* * *

_Two Weeks Later, Back on Earth…_

It was a certain young woman's birthday. It was a day of gifts and of getting told she was that much closer to 30. It was a day without Carson Beckett. She sighed over her coffee as she listened to a DVD of Sherlock Holmes on the TV. She her friend was off doing important things, things he couldn't even name. But that didn't mean she didn't miss him.

She heard the mail box clink open and shut. Pushing herself off the couch, she went outside to a bright sunny day, opened the mailbox and started murmuring, "Bills. Spam. Spam. Bills."

And then she came to a brown envelope. "Who is Rodney McKay?" she whispered to herself as she wandered back into the house. She opened it and fished out a letter and a picture frame.

She tackled the letter first, aware that there was every possibility this Rodney McKay was some sort of pervert. Better safe than sorry, so she unfolded the paper and read:

_Dear Deana,_

_My name is Rodney McKay. I'm a friend of Carson's. He was telling me he was a bit upset he couldn't send his friend a gift for her birthday, so I took the liberty of going through his things until I found out who and where since I have enough connections to make this happen. (Carson is a bit indisposed at the moment…let's just say he had an encounter with a monkey and leave it at that, okay?) Anyway, I hope you don't mind, but I had our friend Teyla take this picture because frankly I wasn't going to go in there and do it myself. They already look at me funny because of …well, you don't need to know about that. Anyway, this isn't a picture he would send you himself, I'm sure, but I'm a nicer guy than he is, so enjoy!_

_Sincerely,_

_R. M._

_PS – Happy Birthday. Did you know Carson's allergic to Ewoks?_

Deana shook her head, a bit startled and confused by the strange letter, but he said he was a friend of Carson's, so he couldn't be all bad. She put the letter aside and looked at the contents of the frame carefully.

And there was Carson, asleep on a hospital bed, shirtless and beautiful with the sheet draped over his hips. Her cheeks turned red, but she sure as heck didn't stop looking.

Rodney McKay certainly _was_ a nice man. A very, very nice man indeed.

* * *

Hehehe. Happy Birthday, my friend. ;-) In honor of your birthday I shall let you have the day with Carson before you have to turn him back in. +grin+ **Disclaimer:** Don't own the boys. Don't own the Atlantis 'verse. Want to own Paul.  
**Email**: angelruseATgmailDOTcom 


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